


The Way You

by steggyisimmortal



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Parallels, Steve cannot drive, Steve's fear of spiders, Wartime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steggyisimmortal/pseuds/steggyisimmortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Nazi Germany, you have to make the most of your situation.  Even if that means stealing a car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Steggy Positivity Week.
> 
> Inspired by this post: http://spitandvinegar.tumblr.com/post/141537430783/ok-so-we-all-know-that-the-answer-to-where-did
> 
> Quality Street candies borrowed from roboticonography's fic Ain't Love a Kick.

Steve and Peggy stopped dead in their tracks, chests heaving from the exertion of running, and watched as the flames engulfed their vehicle. 

Steve’s arms dropped to his sides in disbelief. 

“Well, that’s just – fantastic,” Peggy said crisply.

~~~

They’d been walking for over an hour. They hadn’t come across any enemies but they hadn’t seen any friendlies either. It had been just them – no cars, no people, no animals, no houses. 

Peggy had started a game of twenty questions. It took her mind off the fact that her feet were freezing and there was no end in sight to her misery. The game had dissolved into a different one before long.

“Morita or Dernier?”

“Dernier,” Peggy said. “It’s not really his fault, though. The Brits have a very strained relationship with the French. I’d be insulting my father if I didn’t pick the Frenchman.”

“Really? But you two are always laughing.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “His dreadful jokes are surprisingly funny. Reminds me a bit of my brother’s.”

Steve made a noncommittal noise. He filed the information about her brother away for later.

“Okay here’s another one. Me or Bucky?”

Peggy threw a side glance his way. 

“Is that a serious question?” she scoffed. “Bucky, no contest.”

“You’d really punch Bucky instead of me?” He actually looked offended. “Even after that newsreel?”

“While you do somewhat deserve it after that, I imagine punching you would be a bit like punching a steel frame. And Sergeant Barnes deserves a punch or two for his brazenness.”

“Yeah, he’s not really subtle.”

“And I suppose you are, Captain?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I think the newsreel showed us that I’m not.”

They laughed together at the memory. 

Peggy wasn’t truly mad at him for that. It hadn’t been his fault after all. He had been a little naive to think the film makers were going to cut out the part where Captain America showed the world the woman whose picture he kept in his compass but it hadn’t been his fault. 

The only embarrassing part was that her superior was sitting next to her. Every time he saw her, Phillips hadn’t stopped snickering at the memory for hours after they returned to base. Peggy had thought for sure she was going to be court martialed for having suspiciously clocked the colonel over the head before the day was through. Luckily she had refrained and the entire ordeal had been forgotten when Steve and his crew returned to base a few weeks later.

“All right, I gotta good one,” Steve grinned. “Monty or Gabe?”

Peggy groaned. “I couldn’t. Monty is a fellow countryman and Gabe is an angel.”

Steve knit his face up, obviously not satisfied with that answer.

“Monty?” he guessed.

“Yes,” she said immediately. “But I don’t know why.”

Steve laughed, a warm laugh that came from his gut. It made her happy, content. It made her hopeful, taking her mind to a place where she dared not venture. 

Steve’s flailing distracted her. She turned to see him waving his hands around his face, body spinning. Peggy felt the panic creeping up in her. She hastily looked around, hand flying to the gun at her waist. She swept it right and left looking for the source of his pain – a Hydra operative, a German soldier, a suspicious farmer. She didn’t know what they’d used but she guessed a gas or a dart of some kind aimed at his face. 

“Steve?! What is it?!”

She was just about to volley a few shots towards a suspicious dark shadow when she distinctly heard Steve say a word that had her ready to shoot him instead.

“A spider?!”

Steve could hear the ire in her voice but he was still trying to remove the spider web from his face to care enough. He could handle a lot of things but spiders was where he drew the line.

“Is it on me?” He was still grasping at the near invisible strings around his face. 

“I’m ready to shoot what I suspect is actually just a sad, drooping tree because you’re worried there is a spider on your face?!”

“I hate spiders,” he near whined. Peggy shook her head in disbelief. 

“I don’t think you realize how close I am to shooting you right now,” she said, her tone sour.

“Peg.” This time he did whine. 

She huffed and put her gun away. She stepped over to him, shooing his hands out of the way and giving him a cursory once over. When she declared him spider free, his shoulders visibly slumped with relief.

“Well, it’s a good thing your enemies don’t know this tidbit about your character,” she said dryly. “If they did, they could send a man made of spiders after you. You’d go screaming into the hills.”

“Hey, I would not go screaming into the hills,” he weakly defended. 

Despite the fury she still felt at him having worrying her needlessly, it made her smile. The sight of this giant man being taken down by something so small was a sight to see. 

He cleared his throat, looking straight ahead. He was avoiding looking into her eyes, she noted, but the knowing smile on her face wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon.

“Just forget that happened.”

“Not on your life.”

He hung his head, wincing. “You’re gonna tell the guys, aren’t you?”

Peggy started walking, Steve quickly falling in step with her. 

“Mmm, I might be persuaded to keep it to myself.”

“What do you want?”

“A pair of nylons.”

“Deal.” He held his hand out to her which she gladly took to seal their agreement. 

She wouldn’t have told the men anyway and he knew that but he liked bringing her little things from his missions. Most frequently it was small flowers he found along the way, dried and pressed between packets of K rations. He often drew doodles on the back of papers he found lying around on the floor of the abandoned offices the Howlies found themselves in. He’d bring them back for her. 

His favorite had been when he found a Captain America card. He’d drawn a mustache on his image and put a top hat on his head reminiscent of a ringmaster. In the space on the back he’d drawn Peggy holding the shield and encouraging people to buy war bonds, his printed image on the back telling buyers to do as Peggy said.

Once he’d found an unopened tin of Quality Street; she’d mentioned them once in passing and Steve had quickly committed it to memory. He’d never been so thrilled to bring her back a piece of happiness and nostalgia. 

“What’s that over there?” 

Steve followed her hand where it was pointing to something under two low trees. 

“A car,” they said at the same time.

They hurried over. They both had their guns up, ready to engage should any hostiles be in the area but Steve saw no one. 

“Hop in.”

Steve jumped into the driver’s seat without a second thought, throwing his shield in the back. Peggy shut the door on the other side before cursing softly. She reached across him for the panel under the steering wheel. Steve’s breath halted when her arm rested on his thigh. He sat frozen for a minute, hands up in the air, before his brain caught up with him.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. Steve was trying very hard not to think about how close her face was to his crotch. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to recall baseball stats. 

“Getting ready for tea,” she mocked him. He rolled his eyes. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m borrowing a car.”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is stealing,” he corrected. 

He looked at the darkness around them but still saw nothing. 

“I’d ask the owners if I could borrow it but I’m fairly certain they’d rather shoot us.”

Steve watched as she grabbed a set of wires from underneath the steering wheel. She seemed to know exactly what to do. He wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much. Peggy had a wealth of knowledge that never ceased to amaze him. 

Finally his curiosity got the better of him.

“So how do you do it?”

Peggy quirked an eyebrow back at him. “Oh, so now you approve of stealing a car.”

“Might as well learn how. Never know when it might come in handy.”

She showed him the different sets of wire and how to identify the ones he needed. He watched as she stripped the starter wire before striking it against the already stripped battery wires. He revved the engine on her orders and the engine purred to life. With satisfaction, she moved back over to the passenger’s side. 

“And that’s how you steal a car,” she said happily. She smiled at him. 

“Borrow.”

She chuckled at him but refrained from commenting. 

Steve looked around the car nervously for a minute before picking the peddle he thought he needed. The car made a horrible, loud noise and crept forward haltingly. Steve grimaced and moved the gear shift around in hopes it would get better.

When he was promoted, people just assumed he knew how to drive. Not wanting to correct them and never being able to get a word in edgewise, Steve went with it. Howard had a motorcycle outfitted for him and for the most part he did okay with the two wheeled machine. 

But no one had ever explained stick shift to him.

Peggy’s body slumped down into the seat, arms flailing for support, while Steve proceeded to make it worse rather than better. She pulled herself up using the handle on the roof. Was he trying to give her whiplash?

“Bloody hell, man!” she yelled over the screeching noises the car was making. “Who taught you how to drive?!”

He glanced over at her sheepishly. 

“Um no one?”

Peggy ordered him to stop the car. She got out, slamming her door shut. Steve watched in confusion as she made her way around the front of the vehicle, muttering curses all the while, before opening his door and grabbing him by the strap of his uniform. He let her pull him out of the car so she could slide into his place. Dejected, he made his way to the passenger side. 

“Pay attention.”

Steve nodded sullenly. Peggy handled the car with ease. She got them out of the brush and onto the closest road quickly. He looked over at her; she seemed completely at ease. Like she was a race car driver finally getting to return to her craft after too much time apart. 

His stomach dropped when she made a sharp right.

A little too much like a race car driver.

Steve braced himself in his seat. He chanced a look over at the speedometer. 

“Who taught you how to drive?”

She shot him what could only be described as a scathing look.


End file.
